


Laughter is the Best Medicine

by The_Night_Owl



Category: Creepypasta - Fandom
Genre: Emotional/Psychological Abuse, Gore, Multi, Nuns, Orphanage, Religion, Slice of Life, Violence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-05-18
Updated: 2018-05-18
Packaged: 2019-05-08 17:19:59
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,007
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14698815
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/The_Night_Owl/pseuds/The_Night_Owl
Summary: Cathrine is a budding child psychologist, stepping out into the world fresh from her journey of education and a hardworking enviroment of learning. With big dreams of making the world a better place, of saving the unsavable and healing those who'd suffered at the hands of those who scratch at the wounds of the loveless.As a last gift from her teacher and mentor, her career has begun and a place for her in the working world has been secured at a secludes little orphanage deep in the Canadian countryside. But what kind of welcome will she recieve from its inhabitants? And what if there's something plaguing the children that is much too far above her abilities to fix?Is she in over her head? Or will she truly be capable of saving the unsavable?





	Laughter is the Best Medicine

"Alright, I just have to let you know, the previous councilors stationed at Sharance, so you'll pretty much be the head of the section there--" Millsy explained in a less than enthused sounding voice. The eyes that hadn't bothered to spare you so much as a glance during her lecture, for just a split second, flickered up towards you. Steely blue eyes peering at you from over her sharply wing-rimmed spectacles.

Her mouth twisted into something resembling a wry sneer. "Consider it a promotion!" she added with a burst of sarcastic enthusiasm. 

 You frowned, unamused by the older woman's antics. Earning a dry chuckle from said woman, before she returned her gaze to the small folder of papers she was toying at in her bony old-woman hands. 

 "Since you were having an issue with finding residence nearby, the establishment has kindly offered you a room on site, but you'll have to take care of you own food outside of official work hours", and with that, she offered the small package towards you. Snapping the folder shut sharply when your fingers reached to collect the documents. And you fought the urge to shoot the older woman q glare as you snatched your hands into your lap. Smoothing the creases in the paper out on you knees, pointedly ignoring the owlish stare of your superior. Who, you might add, seemed entirely too pleased with herself at the conflicted expression crossing your features. Fighting between acting sensibly towards your teacher, and wanting nothing more than to bite back at her nasty mood. 

 Oh that woman and her moods. Since the very day you'd met her, sitting young-faced and bubbly in her classroom in college. Happy to start the new year, excitedly anticipating the journey ahead--only to be promptly shot down by the cranky old cow and her ever changing behavior that almost had you convinced she was either severely bipolar, or possessed by a demon hag. 

 A demon hag that wore exclusively pencil skirts and high collared smarty-pants shirts. 

 "Other than that, you're basically all set, this is a pretty good gig for you so I suggest not messing it up", she ignored the 'really?' look you shot at her at that. Thanks Mrs, Clara, but that really wasn't the kind of thing to tell an already terrified student about to go out into the big wide world. Like seriously. Pressure much?

 She remedied that with her next words,however, in an uncharacteristic display of kindness that you'd come to never expect from the woman of ice. "But considering you're one of my best students, I really doubt you'll have to worry about that". 

 Huh. Your chest went a little fluttery at that. And you found yourself flushing a brilliant cherry red, much to Millsy's amusement. There was a toying, kind of playful look on her hard face as she watched you fluster at the compliment. As difficult as she prided herself on being, you really did admire the mentor of three years. Relentless in methods, and strict in manner, praise coming from those lips, of any kind, was high praise indeed. She was just one of those people that you just strive to, uhh, impress? Like people just craved her approval? You included of course. 

 Okay. Maybe you would miss this lady, much more than you were willing to admit. 

 Mrs. Clara Millsy was one of the few psychology professors in the City of Lethbridge college, and who you been studying under for the past three years in order to fulfill your grand dream of becoming a psychologist. A clinical psychologist more specifically. The wonders of the brain had always greatly fascinated you--how different environments and circumstances can create such vivid variations of lifestyles and personalities. 

 And you'd just scored your very first full time job. In the field you loved--instead of waiting on in dismal little restaurants or sketchier looking bars. Finally--and you. Were. _Terrified_. Like, to the point you were trying not to puke in your own lap. 

 This was all happening so fast. Heck--just last week you were taking your synoptics and finalizing your final exams and crying over mountains upon mountains of revision notes written in chicken scratch. Drowning in extra caffeinated coffee, tears, and stress. How did that suddenly feel worlds away? Now, you were sitting like a fellow professional, right in front of the teacher who, as far as she was concerned, seemed completely content to shove you out of the door like she couldn't see the back of you soon enough. 

You gulped. Clutching the mesh of crinkling paperwork in your fingers as it finally dawned on you. That now, you were on your own. Cast adrift in the great unknown of life on a raft of your own making. And it was up to you now to keep it afloat. 

 "Now, none of that Catherine, I won't have you doubting yourself so obviously right in front of me" Mrs. Clara tutted disapprovingly, easily bringing you back to reality and out of your own brain. And you looked back up from picking at your fingers to find the older woman's eyes narrowed at you in a glare with no heat to it. It was probably sad to say that the familiarity of that expression made you feel a bit better. "Doubting yourself is the same as doubting me, I have taught you everything you know now, and I won't have you questioning my knowledge now of all times" she scolded primly, sniffing daintily whilst drawing herself to her full height of a grand 6'ft above your five. It briefly occurred to you, as her shoulders squared impossibly flat, that she might actually be trying to comfort you. In a weird, roundabout kind of way.

 After that crossed your mind, you somehow couldn't help the small smile the found its way to your lips. "Thanks so much for giving me this opportunity Ma'am, I've always wanted to work with children" you gushed, now finally feeling relatively calm. You were very proud at how steady your voice sounded too. "I've always felt that kids are often overlooked in the world of mental health, like their problems don't seem to matter as much--so I'm very excited to have the chance to work with children in such a vulnerable position, I feel like I can really do some good here".

 Mrs Clara's thin mouth pressed into a thin line, eyebrows raising in an expression of... You were taking that as surprise. But it didn't seem like a bad thing. "Good, I'm glad you have such confidence in your abilities, children, as ever are tricky to work with", you felt your already thin self esteemed implode at the woman's challenging tone. "They live by different rules to older minds, they have their own social structures and behaviors, and often find it difficult themselves to express or even understand their own emotions, and it makes them all the more harder to work with".

 Huh, you knew all this, but hearing it being spelled out in front of you, you could safely admit it shook your resolve a bit. Not because you disliked the idea of a struggle or the thought of tricky behavior put you off. But it did make you question whether or not you could even meet such expectations to begin with. Were you capable of that sort of thing? You'd passed everything exam and test with flying colours, but field work and written paper theory were two totally different ball games. And the thought of your own incapability causing further distress to already distressed children? It scared you. It really scared you.

... But. That didn't mean you could just give up. 

 It was a bit too late now anyway. You were scheduled to be travelling out to the countryside that afternoon in fact. So it was very very much too late to get cold feet now.

 "I'll manage, I understand not to underestimate this, but... I can do this".

 After a moment of digesting your words, she finally nodded. Pleased, "... Well, I'm glad you feel that way, I wish you the best, Catherine, the best of luck to you".

 You beamed, breathing a sigh of relief, and giving the office one final once over. Basking in nervous excitement at the air of finality it held. "Thank you, Ma'am".

 

 About four hours, a long, stuffy and extremely uncomfortable car ride, and an insane amount of junk food later, you finally began pulling up beside Sharance Orphanage.

 The sight itself was surprisingly, breathtaking. You'd never actually been so far out in the countryside before, and the site was located on a very charmingly deserted section of land. A good half hour drive away from an equally cute little town that you'd passed along the way. Nothings particularly interesting, just a few small grocery stores, an arcade, library, among a few other places of interest that you'd definitely be investigating on your next day off.

 No, the Orphanage itself, was a very grand structure indeed. Very gothic in its detailing, and looked to be fashioned out from an old abbeyway nunnery of some kind. It was large, yes, and just aside from the main building, sat a very lovingly tendered to hall, and a church steeple looming over the structure indicated that the roofing on the opposite side held a fully functioning church. Heh. You can briefly wondered if your new colleagues would be religious in any way, living in such a place. Not that there was any problem if they were--you just weren't yourself. Hopefully, that wouldn't be an issue.

 Your unspoken question was very swiftly answered when the proudly polished front doorway opened in a rather dramatic display. Only to reveal a--a very, quite comically short old woman, adorned from head to toe in nun attire. Would that be considered a uniform? Either way, she evidently took great care of it, you couldn't spot a single crease in the clean black fabric, at dusk of all times. When clothes would be the most ruffled of the span of the day.

 Although, admittedly short in stature. The way she stood held nothing that could even loosely be considered small. She was standing with impeccable poise, making you yourself stand just a little straighter yourself as you realized how sluggish your own poster must look in comparison. Her shoulders were back, and chin raised proudly to face the day. In fact, you would even consider her appearance to be regal in nature. Only you weren't exactly sure if saying so could be considered a compliment or not--nuns didn't like ego and stuff right? Or were your thinking about something else? Dammit, you should've studied more in religious studies!

 As if sensing your inner floundering (which, you might add, wasn't actually visible to the world, except maybe in your eyes if anyone looked too hard), the strangers face immediately broke out into a huge grin upon spotting you. You probably would've been startled by the uncalled for joy in the older woman expression, but you didn't even have the time to register her moving before she was standing right in front of you. Clasping your hands in her wrinklier, older ones. The skin on her face and hands was thin and aged, but she wore the time well. But the warmth in those crinkled brown eyes, though definitely startling to say the least, was strangely just as comforting as it was uncomfortable.

 "Ah Miss Williams dear" the woman gushed in greeting, hands squeezing yours before something akin to alarm flashed across the woman's features, and she raised one hand over her mouth. "--oh gosh, I'm sorry love, you are Catherine Williams aren't you?".

 It took a moment for that to register, and for another beat of silence you found you'd momentarily forgotten your own name. You'd waited just long enough for the worry in the strangers eyes to turn fearful. Before your brain caught up, and you managed to splutter, "Y-yes, yes it is--I am, I'm Catherine, yes".

 Wow. Smooth. You were totally acing this first impression thing. For a professional people person, why couldn't you just introduce yourself properly? This time, your panic really was... Evident, and the glow of the mortified blush that crawled across your cheeks rivaled that of the sun. Heck, you could feel it, heat blossoming uncomfortably in your face and ears. 

 Luckily, the strange woman seemed entirely unfazed by your distress. In fact, if anything, you'd call that glint in her eyes amusement. 

 Still, the effect of your conformation was instant, and she sagged in relief. "Ah, good, good! Welcome dear, we're so excited to welcome you to the family sweetheart, oh come come, let's get you out of the cold", you weren't given the chance to respond to that before you were promptly dragged by bony fingers into the building. The burst of toasty warm air was very much appreciated, only... 

 "U-umm, miss--my things are still in my car" you tried to protest, only to be hushed as a swarm of older ladies swarmed you the moment your feet met the 'welcome home!' carpet. All of them were evidently much older than you, twelve of them in all, the majority being well into their fifties and sixties, but four in particular looking significantly younger. Maybe somewhere in their thirties? Still, each and every one of them were quick to rush forwards into the crowd, all excitedly looking you over in a mothering sort of fashion, or simply eyeing you with a kindly sort of curiosity. 

 Oh boy. You hadn't expected such a warm--or unusual welcome. Not to say you didn't appreciate it, it was just not at all what you'd envisioned in your head. You'd imagined a smartly dressed lady showing you around in a detached, businesslike fashion, not a swarm of substitute grandma's. All of whom were still fawning over you like you were some amazing new creature at a petting zoo.

 Jeez, should you laugh or should you cry?

 Well. At least you could safely say you were pretty popular in your new workplace? If you weren't, then you would be pretty damn curious to see how they were treated. Heck--you don't think you'd ever received this much attention in your entire life. Maybe this was what being famous felt like, and damn if you could see the appeal. Or you would if you liked this sort of thing, right now, as much as you appreciated your new colleagues being nice and all. It was starting to get a bit...uncomfortable.

 "Girls, girls--now you all stop crowding the poor dear, she's had quite the trip here, off with you" one of the women suddenly ordered as a familiar wrinkly pair of old hands picked your out easily in the crowd. Rather than the women themselves parting away from you, instead, it was more like you were yanked from out of them. And you saw the clear disappointment in all the ladies faces as they seemed to slump in defeat, dissipating as ordered while grumbling in complaint as the room emptied. Gradually.

 Turning to face your savior who'd quite easily shooed the hoard away. You were pleasantly surprised to find that your rescuer, was actually the woman who'd dragged you into it in the first place. You must have looked pretty frazzled, as she tutted in disapproval. And you took the opportunity to straighten yourself out a little. Mainly your shirt, which had in the chaos, somehow managed to get a little, well, tangled. 

 Giving you an apologetic look as she pawed at what she obviously deemed as a problematic tangle in your hair. She kindly took the moment to introduce herself. "I'm sorry love, the girls are in a bit of a tissy with the new face, excited--if you couldn't tell", there was something distinctly playful in the woman's coy grin at that. "You call me Martha, and don't mind the girls fussing, they'll calm down soon enough, but expect quite a bit of attention for the while, I'm sure everyone would love to get to know you, the children especially".

 Oh boy. 

 Trying to ignore the weakness in your voice as you shot her a wobbly smile, you tried your best to respond confidently. But your nerves betrayed you, and despite your best efforts, your voice cracked almost the moment you opened your mouth.

 "We-well, I suppose that's good for me, my job I mean--I mean It's not all about the work but it makes it easier for me if the kids are open to--", you realized you were babbling, you really did, but if anything, Martha seemed highly entertained by it. The old woman was actually smirking, not unkindly, just... You could tell already that this woman was pretty much out of your league in terms of she's got her crap together and is definitely gonna enjoy watching you try to get yours.

 Still. You finished anyway, might as well. You'd already made a twit of yourself, so might as well continue on that note. "To me...yeah".

 You could've sworn she snorted. But to her credit, she hid it well. A hand fluttering absently to her face before she collected herself enough to speak.

 "Well yes, I suppose it does, I won't pretend I'm all that knowledgeable of your profession dear, I'm much too old, and in my day that sort of thing simply wasn't talked about", as she spoke, she wove an arm with yours, and began gently guiding your towards the same hallway the crowd had emptied into. Patting your forearm fondly as you allowed yourself to be maneuvered into the brightly lit hallway. "All our little ones are sweet angels, troubled yes, but they'll welcome a new face".

 Huh. Well. That was a good sign. You were expecting a... Harder audience?

 "Hop on, pet, let's get you settled for the night, save introductions and the like for tomorrow".

**Author's Note:**

> I KNOW I KNOW! I can't help myseeelf. I just have so many ideas! But rest assured the like three people who actually like my writing--i'm not giving up any of my projects! And i'll try to keep my updates as regular as possible and totally not procrastinate at all. Yup. Totally got this.  
> I hope you enjoyed the first cgapter of many to come. I know I did. Why not leave a comment to let me know what you thought?  
> Welp, thanks for reading! Till next time~


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